Welcome to the unofficial Christ's Hospital Forum - for discussing everything CH/Old Blue related. All pupils, parents, families, staff, Old Blues and anyone else related to CH are welcome to browse the boards, register and contribute.
Share your memories and stories from the Hertford Christ's Hospital School, which closed in 1985, when the two schools integrated to the Horsham site....
fra828 wrote:I was wandering around Sainsburys this morning and came across the fishcakes in the freezer cabinet, and was transported back to CH breakfast -possibly some saturdays- or was it tea when we had not very nice fishcakes and tinned tomatoes?
Hey yes! Those warm weird-tasting indigestible fishcakes with tinned tomatoes - the smell of them blended horribly with the revolting oilcloth rolled out over the serving table, and the nauseating stench of the metal fish cutlery box.
I'd forgotten those fishcakes - Saturday evening menu? If there was any identifiable fish in the cakes it was a sort of solid grey lump in the instant potato mixture coated in orange fake breadcrumbs. A more-or-less defrosted frozen product.
I feel a gastroinestinal churning at the very thought.
"Baldrick, you wouldn't recognise a cunning plan if it painted itself purple, and danced naked on top of a harpsichord singing "Cunning plans are here again.""
Eighhttwelve wrote:
They were Taylor and Larsen respectively. Kay was really bright, excellent at sports and a terrific pianist but she left at the end of the third year. She had a brother at Horsham who was older than us; he was a mace chucker (apologies, I'm not sure of the correct technical term) in the band.
I've just read Jo's message on this thread about breakfasts and immediatley thought of weetabix with butter spread on them - how we could have thought that was delectable I do not know but then we ate fried bread spread with marmalade as well so our taste buds must have been severely warped.
Thank you for those surnames! I liked fried bread and marmalade-(at the time!)- but you jogged my memory with weetabix and butter-I can vaguely remember that, yuk, I agree!
Eighhttwelve wrote:
They were Taylor and Larsen respectively. Kay was really bright, excellent at sports and a terrific pianist but she left at the end of the third year. She had a brother at Horsham who was older than us; he was a mace chucker (apologies, I'm not sure of the correct technical term) in the band.
I've just read Jo's message on this thread about breakfasts and immediatley thought of weetabix with butter spread on them - how we could have thought that was delectable I do not know but then we ate fried bread spread with marmalade as well so our taste buds must have been severely warped.
Thank you for those surnames! I liked fried bread and marmalade-(at the time!)- but you jogged my memory with weetabix and butter-I can vaguely remember that, yuk, I agree!
As Frances says the term for "mace chucker" is drum major.
There was an Alan Larsen at Horsham (Ajarn Philip's age or thereabouts) so I suspect that he is Kay's brother.
Angela Woodford wrote:
Hey yes! Those warm weird-tasting indigestible fishcakes with tinned tomatoes - the smell of them blended horribly with the revolting oilcloth rolled out over the serving table, and the nauseating stench of the metal fish cutlery box.
I'd forgotten those fishcakes - Saturday evening menu? If there was any identifiable fish in the cakes it was a sort of solid grey lump in the instant potato mixture coated in orange fake breadcrumbs. A more-or-less defrosted frozen product.
I feel a gastroinestinal churning at the very thought.
A very vivid description! Now I know why I have rarely eaten fishcakes since then, and also we used to find small 'bones' in them, or were they really nail- clippings as we thought then?!
Angela Woodford wrote:
Hey yes! Those warm weird-tasting indigestible fishcakes with tinned tomatoes - the smell of them blended horribly with the revolting oilcloth rolled out over the serving table, and the nauseating stench of the metal fish cutlery box.
I'd forgotten those fishcakes - Saturday evening menu? If there was any identifiable fish in the cakes it was a sort of solid grey lump in the instant potato mixture coated in orange fake breadcrumbs. A more-or-less defrosted frozen product.
I feel a gastroinestinal churning at the very thought.
A very vivid description! Now I know why I have rarely eaten fishcakes since then, and also we used to find small 'bones' in them, or were they really nail- clippings as we thought then?!
We had similar at Horsham too.
As ever Angela catches them perfectly with her description.
Fish of any description, except perhaps the kedgeree, was the worst food at Hertford. I do like most fish now, but I don't think I will ever again be able to stomach fishcakes with tinned tomatoes.
I couldnt't stomach ANYTHING with tinned tomatoes.
Our local hospital served fishcakes which were worse than those at Hertford, my lunch one day consisted of instant mash and tomato sauce. The fishcakes had definitely been in contact with fish, but what sort (allegedly salmon) and how old it was should be left to the imagination.
Thou shalt not sit with statisticians nor commit a social science.
Haven't been on CHF for ages and feel quite maternal at the number of pages on the thread for you devoted to you writing the next epic AW!! What's occurring? Where are you in development??
Gerrie M-A (GMA) - 2:34 71-75
"If you cannot have what you want, then learn to want what you have"
Anon or The Guru or someone worthy like that.
Wasn't DR.
Definitely not.
Kim2s70-77 wrote:Just had a couple of random and unrelated thoughts from the old days.....
When we were allowed to go into town to go shopping, there was always the confusion and lack of clear understanding, by townspeople, of exactly what kind of institution we were. I know the staff of Woolworth's seemed to think we were a Borstal of some description and would follow us closely through the store, to make sure we didn't 'pocket' things. Other shopkeepers knew we were a Boarding school - but there were definitely some who must have thought we were an orphanage of some description . Somewhat abashed, I haveto admit to 'milking' this mercilessly and refining my acting skills by crying very poor - particularly at the spectacularly kind Baker's store. I don't remember the name, and I'm sure I was not the first to do this, but - I would structure my outings so that the last stop on the itinerary was always the bakery, when I just had a few pennies left in my purse. Composing my face into the leanest, hungriest look possible, I would gaze longingly at assorted pastries (my mouth is currently watering with - I'm an Ex-Pat, don't forget - images of Eccles cakes/ Lardy cakes /buns etc) and quaveringly enquire the price of each bun. When told the cost, I would peer sadly into my purse and ask what did they have for ( fill in the blank with paltry sum in coppers)? The lovely man would pack 3 or 4 juicy cakes into a bag, wipe a tear from the corner of his eye and hand over the bag, to my stammered profusion of thanks and undying gratitude. Of course, once out of sight, I would snatch up my loot, skip off back to school and gleefully scoff the lot. Mea culpa!!
This story is sooo funny, thanks so much for sharing it! I wasn't at CH long enough to reach the milestone of being allowed out shopping, but did have a bit of a sympathy-exploitation-thing going at one point. I stareted writing letters to organisations using "Ward 7, Christ's Hospital" as the address instead of "House" so that the recipient might think I was some poor little scrap with a long-term affliction (which maybe I was in a way). This ploy brought some modest success. I had a letter about my collection of Victorian boxes - I only had the one, really - published in Bunty comic, which won me not only a £2 record token but also "this week's Star Prize of a musical jewel box". And when I wrote to Mars about some white discolouration on a piece of confectionery, they sent me a box of chocolates AND some vouchers which I remember spending with glee on Long Saturday.
Hmm... I remember a walk up to Ashbourne, which took us past the primary school at the back of All Saints Church. We passed just as the children were coming out. I distinctly remember one parent telling their child that they "should not laugh, dear, because those poor children do not have mummies or daddies". Ho Hum.
I also remember going into Hertford (Upper Sixth?) with a little bit of money in our pockets and buying mille feuilles ('milly fillies') from the bakers near Woolworths, and then rushing into the gardens of the Castle to consume them. On one occasion we were seen by Miss Jukes and Miss Wilson who, kindly, moved along without apparently noticing us.
I also remember the time when Miss West brought her beloved younger brother into 2's when we were out in school. At random she pulled open the door of locker 11 (mine) and everything fell out - you should see my airing cupboard these days!. Anyway, brother Roger (who I got to know in later years) was so embarrassed on my behalf that after leaving the school on that occasion, he sent the owner of the locker 2:11 a box of goodies from his company (Nestle). Thus I discovered Milo... Yumm...!
"And when I wrote to Mars about some white discolouration on a piece of confectionery, they sent me a box of chocolates AND some vouchers which I remember spending with glee on Long Saturday."
I am really surprised that nothing was said, to my knowledge, of this practice! I'm sure every generation milked it in some way. In our era, some one had a measure of success in reporting something wrong with a product and we all jumped on the bandwagon and started frantically writing letters of complaint to any manufacturer we could think of. I think the best one I heard of was a crate of oats/ raisins/ nuts etc after the Alpen muesli was a victim of our scam. Not sure who was the beneficiary - or even if it was genuine - but it certainly upped the ante as far as our efforts went. We were merciless! Very surprised that neither DR nor Miss Tucker ever stopped us.
I've had lots of suggestions and potentially inspiring ideas for putting together this book.
The last book of Hertford reminiscences by the distinguished Audrey Griggs covers the period from 1937 - 1944, and is very much a personal memoir, but thanks to the Forum we have loads of individual memories on which to draw.
I would propose going forward until the last days of the Head Mistress-ship of DR?
Opinions? Advice? Any Old Girls in publishing?
I feel excited....
Angela, if your book goes ahead - and I sooo hope it does, what a blast! - I would be happy to help if you think I would be of any use. I worked in academic book publishing for some years and still do some freelance editing, project managing publications and print buying.
Lizzyfrog wrote:I wasn't at CH long enough to reach the milestone of being allowed out shopping, but did have a bit of a sympathy-exploitation-thing going at one point. I stareted writing letters to organisations using "Ward 7, Christ's Hospital" as the address instead of "House" so that the recipient might think I was some poor little scrap with a long-term affliction (which maybe I was in a way). This ploy brought some modest success. I had a letter about my collection of Victorian boxes - I only had the one, really - published in Bunty comic, which won me not only a £2 record token but also "this week's Star Prize of a musical jewel box". And when I wrote to Mars about some white discolouration on a piece of confectionery, they sent me a box of chocolates AND some vouchers which I remember spending with glee on Long Saturday.
Some of us were in Wards, Lizzy. It change to House while I was there, can't remember the year, Midget would have been in a Ward all her time at CH.
